Fifty Shades of Kate
by Turretwithaview
Summary: Just somewhere to place those one-shots that seem to keep appearing in my computer. A bit of fluff, a bit of humour and a bit of fun, hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

FIFTY SHADES OF KATE

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Prologue

His eyes reach the end of the final page, his fingers tap the back cover closed and he drops the book on the desk. Ok, he can get the furore, the critics lining up to shoot it down or place it on pedestals … though personally he thinks it's mainly media hype, the enjoyment of hearing their own words … or at least seeing them in print. He sighs, don't we all, he thinks to himself and grins a bit ruefully.

His eyes go unbidden to the wedding photo on the desk, he picks it up, rubs his thumb over her face as though she were there in skin and bone. He stares down at the bright, happy smile the photographer had caught on her face, the glow of the setting sun on her hair … his eyes narrow, he looks closely at the photo, he looks up, at the books lining the wall, past them, through the halls of time … well ok, the last ten years.

A slow smile creeps across his face and he sits up, grabs the laptop and turns it on before replacing his feet on the desk. He double-clicks the word icon and waits impatiently for the blank page to load. This is for her … for him …. for them …


	2. Tha Badge

Where was the Badge?

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I'd not been able to breathe properly all evening, not since Mother opened the door and I saw her standing there in the dress, hair curled rather than just hanging straight as I was used to at the time. It's wasn't my first red carpet, not by a long shot, but somehow, having Beckett on my arm as she stepped out beside me … well, what can I say? Best red carpet ever!

And of course the boys' faces when they saw us … ok saw her. Espo's jaw nearly dislocated and I really had to hold it in when she said "I'd let you borrow it Esposito, but you stretched out the last one!" Oh boy! That was priceless.

But what really got me was when she flashed her badge! I mean … HOW?! Where the hell had she kept _that_ all evening? Finding that out was definitely going to be number one item on my list … in fact I added it onto the end of my bucket list … bucket list? Beckett list? Yeah, well whichever.

Her "Don't ask" to my question, just wasn't going to cut it. No way! She walked off and I'll admit it took me a couple of seconds for my brain to catch up with my feet .. or was it the other way round? Well, doesn't really matter. She was halfway across the room before I was turned and racing to catch up … come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I slowed down a bit before that, that rear view was totally fascinating … and still didn't explain where the hell she'd kept her badge!

We made it out onto the red carpet and stopped by the dais where the valet was busy handing out keys and calling car plates to his minions. He must have associated Beckett and the Ferrari, because he was calling it out even before I'd opened my mouth.

Even today I don't argue with her when she gets that look on her face, back then I didn't have a hope in hell! She grabbed the keys off the kid as he climbed out of the car, threw me a glare which had me trotting round to the passenger door and if I'd hoped to catch a glimpse of Beckett in a tight dress trying to climb into a low-slung car, I have to admit, I was disappointed. By the time I'd swung the door open and climbed in, she was already sitting there, revving the engine and waiting impatiently.

I spent the drive to the precinct side-on (or sitting as sideways as you can ever get in one of those Italian shoeboxes) and trying to work out where she could possibly have hidden that damned badge … which by the way, in case you guys aren't aware of it is neither thin nor light. Short of suggesting some very private and inappropriate places, there was just no way that dress left any room to hide it!

I pretended to ignore the glares I was getting, and held on to door strap and headrest as tight as possible as she blasted down streets and around corners with little regard for my comfort or the Pirelli tyres trying to get traction on the tarmac.

I knew I was safe as long as she was driving, but as soon as she slowed for the ramp down into the precinct's underground, I made sure to turn round, sit back and face forwards … Rick Castle at his most restrained! I might as well admit right here and now, it didn't work. Even after all these years I can still feel the thump on my arm and still have nightmares over the Beckett glare I got as we sat there, the headlamps bouncing off the precinct walls, the engine ticking and clicking away as it tried to cool down and I pretended to be absorbed by the prancing horse on the glove compartment.

Eventually she flung the door open and I watched out the corner of my eye as she swung her legs out and made it to her feet in one easy move. It was time for _my_ jaw to hit the floor and though I've seen her do it a hundred times since, in all sorts of getups, I've never been able to work it out. I'm like an uncoordinated version of King Kong trying to climb out of that damned car, all arms and legs and huffing and puffing … Kate on the other hand …. well, she's just Kate!

None of my pleading, none of my promises of best behaviour or bear claws for breakfast got me an insight into where she'd hidden the badge, in fact, we were in the lift and on our way up to the fourth floor before I realised that she'd done it again. The badge wasn't in her hand, and if I hadn't been so obsessed on the drive I would have realised earlier … somewhere between turning away from me back at the fundraiser and my climbing into the car, she'd done the vanishing trick with the goddamned badge.

Stepping out of the lift we crossed towards her desk, Beckett totally ignoring the open-mouthed stares of the other occupants of the bullpen and then, much to my surprise, she was walking straight past her desk and up the stairs to the locker room. It took me a couple of seconds to take my hand off the back of my chair and start to follow her … until she stopped with one foot on the bottom run and turned her head to look at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, ok, locker room outta bounds .. gotcha!" Reluctantly, I turned back and made my way over to her desk where I sat down to wait, killing time by going through the photos of the missing jewellery.

It was such a disappointment when the heels clicking down the stairs showed me Beckett in a pair of jeans and her leather jacket. The badge was back to being perfectly visible on her belt.

But as General Sun Tzu once famously said, "If you wait by the river long enough, the bodies of your enemies will float by."

Well, in my case it wasn't exactly the enemy's body floating past, it was Kate Beckett's. Kate Beckett floating past me in our bedroom one night, wearing nothing but a garter belt, a thigh holster with the small Ruger SR9c compact pistol and her badge clipped onto the elastic strap.

Yeah, it took me a long time to find out where she kept it, but hell, it was a load more fun!

* * *

 _ **AN: I know that in the show he asked her to pick him up, which meant the Crown Vic and not the Ferrari, but ... hey! This is fic!**_


End file.
